Misfits
by SPRITTLEX
Summary: Michael and Maria meet someone that understands.


Title:Misfits(1/1)   
  
Author:SPRITTLEX   
  
E-mail:SPRITTLEX@aol.com   
  
Rating:PG-14   
  
Disclaimer:I own the plot, and all original concepts. WB owns Roswell. People that own other things, do just that.   
  
Distribution:Regulars, and newbies that ask.   
  
Feedback:Definitely, I need to be able to judge the desire for a sequel.   
  
Author's note:Here's another one of my really weird looks at the show. I thought I'd have fun with my knack for odd original characters.   
  
Spoilers:M/M. An AU story, what if there had already been someone in one of the cells in Heatwave, and Michael and Maria had been the ones to get arrested.   
  
Summary:M and M meet someone that understands.   
  
* * * * *   
  
THE ACCIDENTAL TOURISTS   
  
"This so sucks!" Maria said as she paced her cell, which she shared with the losers that had gotten them into this mess.   
  
"Just don't panic. I'm sure Max and the others are working on getting us free," Michael said from the cot in his cell, which he thought he was alone in.   
  
"Yeah, that or they're still running like crazy," Maria replied.   
  
"Yo babe, chill," one of the losers said, before Michael could express the same sentiment.   
  
"One, don't call me babe. Two, what do you know, Moron?" Maria said.   
  
"The young lady is most assuredly right," what Michael had thought was a pile of blankets said from the corner of their cell.   
  
"You guys are free to go," a deputy said as he came and opened the door to Maria and the loser's cell. The losers wandered out, but the deputy stopped Maria before she could leave, "Where do you think you're going, Little Lady?" he asked.   
  
"Okay, do I have a tattoo that says 'call me annoying nicknames', or something!? You said we were free to go," Maria responded.   
  
"They were, you have to stay," the deputy said, closing the door and leaving.   
  
"Told you she was right. People like us they keep," the pile said, and stood to reveal an exceptionally tall and lanky man with Jet black hair, and forest green eyes.   
  
"People like us?" Michael and Maria asked simultaneously.   
  
"Misfits, outsiders, those that aren't even square pegs, that refuse their round holes. By the by, I'm Slim Chance," he said, giving an oddly formal bow to both teens.   
  
"Slim Chance? Do you have a brother named....... Never mind," Maria said.   
  
"I don't have any named Never Mind, but I do have several siblings. Fat, None, Second, Lucky, No, and twins named Halfa and Takea," Slim answered pleasantly.   
  
"Really?" Maria asked.   
  
"Sadly, everything I just said was true," Slim replied.   
  
"What are you in here for?" Michael asked.   
  
"Ah, sit children. For we have time, and therein lies a tale," Slim said, crouching down in a corner, as Maria and Michael sat on their respective cots.   
  
* * *   
  
FAMILY BUSINESS   
  
"Long ago, when the West was wild, there was a man. By name, he was Happy Chance, my great, great, great grandfather. By trade he was a bandit. Not a thief. Not a robber. Not a crook. He was a bandit.   
  
"Family legend has it that he was quite a good bandit. The thing of that is that he was so good that no one ever knew he did half the jobs he did, so history has failed to recognize him. He had a saying, though, 'It's not about what they think, it's about what you know.' Basically, that he wasn't bitter about not being famous as well as rich.   
  
"Anyway, he eventually married and had kids. The thing is, that the job just sort of stuck. Chance's have been high quality bandits for a very long time now. Unfortunately, in family of black sheep, I was the blackest of all. I stink at Banditry, hence my current state of incarceration. And my family won't come to get me out, because No Chance should ever get caught, it's just bad form," Slim explained.   
  
"So you stole something and got caught?" Maria asked.   
  
"I wish. I was knocked unconscious while attempting to hold up a milk truck. I thought it was an armored car, and the driver beaned me with a bottle of Half-n-Half. It's horribly embarrassing," Slim replied, blushing.   
  
"I'd think it would be. That is so sad. I wish I had something you could steal," Maria said.   
  
"Are you crazy!? He tells you he's a professional thief and you can't help him fast enough, but you find out we're.......... Left handed, and you're ready to sick the feds on me, Max, and Isabel," Michael said.   
  
"For one thing, being.... Left handed is a little bigger than a thief, and for another, he didn't just dump me," Maria replied.   
  
"Okay, several things. One, I prefer Bandit, I'm not a Thief. Two, Who in there right mind would dump a spitfire like you? Three, contrary to my story of how I ended up here, I'm not stupid. I do know that you aren't Left handed. So, what's that code for? You an Alien or something?" Slim asked.   
  
* * *   
  
AN EVER EXPANDING UNIVERSE, OR CIRCLE OF FRIENDS   
  
"Spitfire? Spitfire. Yeah, that's a keeper," Maria said with a smile.   
  
"Who do you work for?" Michael asked Slim.   
  
"Ah, I got it, didn't I? That's another Chance talent, we're freakishly good guessers," Slim said.   
  
"The Chance and Sons Bandit Family, here look," he said, handing Michael a card, it read:   
  
CHANCE AND SONS   
  
PROFESSIONAL BANDITS SINCE 1873   
  
SERVICE AND SKILL OUR HALLMARKS   
  
ASK ABOUT OUR BULK RATES   
  
"This is real?" Michael asked incredulously.   
  
"Well, I'm the only one that carries them. The thing is, I didn't think I'd get caught. So, I figured that only clients would see them, not the police. They didn't search me very well, so they didn't find them. Do you think I should get rid of them?" Slim asked.   
  
"I think it's cute. You should keep them, but hide them really good," Maria said as she looked at the card.   
  
"You just like him because he said I was stupid for dumping you, which isn't what I did," Michael said.   
  
"You tell me, Slim. What does it mean when a guy you've been making out with for about a week suddenly tells you he doesn't want to have anything to do with you anymore?" Maria asked.   
  
"I'd definitely say he dumped you, and I stick with stupid as my analysis of that decision," Slim replied.   
  
"You are a friend and gentleman, Slim," Maria said.   
  
"Aren't you going to take the whole left handed thing into account?" Michael asked defensively.   
  
"Excuse me, but have you even met the lady in question? It's plain to see she's sharp as a whip, and smart as a tack. She's funny, and beautiful. Unless you're all V under your not unattractive face, and experimental hair, I see no reason not to live a long and happy life with the aforementioned Spitfire in the adjoining cell," Slim said.   
  
"Have I mentioned how much I like you?" Maria asked the Bandit.   
  
"No need, the pleasure is all mine," Slim replied.   
  
"Alright, I think you may be involved in something, but your Mother's here, and I have no reason to hold you," Sheriff Valenti said as he came in and opened Maria's cell.   
  
"I'm not going unless you let Michael go, too. Accept for extreme stupidity, he's guilty of nothing," Maria said.   
  
"Fine, I don't really have enough to hold either one of you, but I will be keeping my eyes on both of you" Valenti said, and opened the other cell.   
  
"Can I go, too? I promise to be good," Slim asked.   
  
"Unfortunately, yes. The Milkman decided you were so pathetic that he wouldn't press charges. This is not a good night for the law," Sheriff Valenti muttered, as the three left their cells.   
  
"You guys know where there's any good restaurants around here?" Slim asked.   
  
"Oooh, we'll go to the Crashdown, I can make you something," Maria said.   
  
"You two are freaks. Can I come, too?" Michael said.   
  
FIN   
  



End file.
